“I suppose there would be some folks who would agree with you. But then I am sure many would have something to say about your relationship with the drow.” She raised an eyebrow, and Robyn flushed.
“Yes, well, that just sort of happened,” she murmured, and the sorceress laughed.
“That seems to be how it goes. The troll is the one who found me half-frozen and lost in this forest. He nursed me back to health and helped me set up this little cottage to get me out of his home as fast as possible.” Robyn thought she saw a sad look cross the sorceress’s face, but it disappeared far too quickly for her to be certain.
“Anyway, he and I have an understanding. He leaves me in peace and brings me deliveries of things I need from the deeper parts of the forest, and I permit him to wander freely through here. He keeps the riffraff away from my home and provides fresh meat when he has it in excess.” She gave a thoughtful hum, her face screwing up slightly as she began to pull down various herbs, grabbing bits from different jars and throwing them into a bowl along with black tea leaves. “I suppose you can call it a trade of services. I’d thought, you and your drow had a similar arrangement, but you do not—do you?”
“No,” Robyn answered. “I mean I was grateful when it seemed that way after a while, since when we met it was less than cordial.” The sorceress laughed at that, her eyes crinkling with amusement as she nodded with understanding. But of course a sorceress rescued by a troll of all things would understand that. “But then, somehow, things changed.”
“And now you don’t want to let him go,” Rhea filled in with a look of sympathy. Sighing, she clucked her tongue and stored the jars once more. “It is hard enough to love a nonhuman, harder still when you are tied to magics. It should be easier, you would think, but what we do has considerable demands upon us… and rules. I don’t think anyone would even notice if I took a mate who was another species, but my power can make my position seem more like competition, or worse a potential threat, than a lover. It is no easier for you, is it?”
Robyn shook her head. “It is forbidden for a necromancer to develop any sort of relationship with one they have resurrected. A power imbalance is created when they are tied to us by our magic. What I have done with Ashul… I could be punished severely for it,” she murmured, “for gross abuse of my powers.”
The sorceress snorted. “Your drow doesn’t seem the helpless or defenseless sort. You may have a certain amount of control because you resurrected him—which I must admit is surprising to me since I did not think humans could resurrect elves due to the complexity and nature of their power. But still, he knows his mind and clearly desires it, and you are obviously a good person if you are fretting over it this much… Why would you even mention it? Live happily ever after and keep that menace under control, and the rest of the world will ultimately thank you.”
A grimace twisted Robyn’s mouth. “I wish it were that easy. If it were, we never would have left the elven woods to begin with. Ashul was different there. Calm. Peaceful, as long as we were left alone.”
“And you cannot?”
She shook her head. “Another quirk of our school of necromancy is that the spell we’re taught also has a built-in compulsion that makes us return to the school. We are told that this is so that a resurrected individual doesn’t take us hostage. The compulsion affects us, and gradually, through the leash, it will affect him too.”
Rhea wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Brutal.”
Robyn nodded gloomily and was grateful when the kettle whistled, diverting the sorceress’s attention. Hurrying back to the fire, she lifted it free from the rod it hung from, pouring the water into an old black teapot that had seen better days along with the small handful of sweet-smelling leaves that she had mixed together. They sat silently for several minutes as the leaves steeped, filling the space around the table with the pleasant aroma of black tea and various spices, including a hint of cinnamon.
“Tea?” She lifted the kettle in offering, and Robyn nodded as she studied the other woman as she poured the brew into the two cups.
“Are you not afraid of the possibilities if people knew there was a relationship, even if it’s nothing more than a simple understanding, between you and the troll? Not even a little?”
The sorceress shook her head and leaned forward slightly as she poured the tea.
“Part of me worries at times. It would take very little to convince a mob to attack, and there have been a few close calls when some foolish people have turned against me. I know that having any sort of perceived relationship with a troll could be what drives that final nail in the coffin for the locals if they can’t accept it, but I also know that I can’t live in fear. If I do, then what sort of life is it that is even worth living if I let it, or anything else control me? I’m actually a little jealous of your situation. Men in our crafts have an easy time finding love, but it is harder for us, isn’t it? Men among other species are threatened or uncomfortable with our power. And you’ve found a male who clearly adores you exactly as you are.”
“I just wish I knew what to do,” Robyn muttered, staring down at the contents of her cup.
“What is the worst that you’re afraid of?” Rhea leaned in closer. “Or more to the point, what is it that you desire?”
Robyn bit her lip, hesitant to say it aloud, but at the sorceress’s encouraging look, she sighed. “I want Ashul. I want to be with him. I was half in love with him before we entered the elven woods... and now…” her voice dropped off wearily.
“And now you love him,” Rhea finished.
“I’m not certain, but I think I do,” Robyn murmured in agreement. “And that scares me, not only because it’s forbidden but because there is a huge chance of all of this turning out very badly.”
Rhea held up a hand. “And that is where I’m going to stop you.” Her lips curved sympathetically. “I’m the older of the two of us and the more experienced with heartaches and disappointments, believe me, so take some advice from me. Just love him and enjoy every moment you have. The future will come regardless, and you will meet it head on, but for now you have this.”
“Right.” Robyn released the breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding and took a sip of her tea.
She couldn’t change what would come, but she could embrace what she had fully and then deal withthatobstacle when it came. If Ashul felt the same way. For all she knew, he could be simply amusing himself with her until they arrived at the monastery. He never spoke of any desire other than gaining his freedom. Maybe she needed something to work in her favor that was outside of her particular skillset, something that made her appear less like a… white wyrm.
Casting a furtive glance toward the door, she lowered her cup and leaned forward to keep her voice pitched low. “There is something else. Do you have something that can glamour appearances?”
Rhea lowered her own cup, one eyebrow rising in inquiry. “I do have various spells of glamour. The ones for invisibility are costly, though.”
Robyn blinked. What need did she have to be invisible? At her confused look, the sorceress chuckled and waved a hand. “Forget that I said that. What did you have in mind.”
She shifted in her chair, suddenly embarrassed to explain. “I would just like to look… different,” she finished lamely.
How could she possibly explain to the confident woman sitting across from her that she wanted to reclaim even a small part of the beauty she once possessed? Even if it would only be for a short time, she wanted Ashul to see the real her and not just what was skin deep due to her training at the monastery.